


just touch, just chemistry

by eloha



Category: One Piece
Genre: Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Hair Braiding, Hair-pulling, M/M, Praise Kink, Situational Humiliation, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha
Summary: Killer doesn’t expect Kid to thread his fingers in the hair not braided, wrapping it around his fist quickly to yank Killer’s head back. The blonde’s mouth drops open, blue eyes dilated when he catches Kid’s dark expression.“Because I can see every reaction on that pretty face of yours.”
Relationships: Eustass Kid/Killer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	just touch, just chemistry

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, to be the one braiding Killer's long and luxurious hair

“You have to keep your head back,” Kid tugs, _hard_ , “like this.” 

Killer bites his lip, because getting one’s hair braided shouldn’t be such a turn on, but Kid’s constantly yanking his hair, fingers working in an intricate pattern. The blonde wispies that were on his forehead are slowly being pulled up and into crisscrosses by Kid’s overbearing fingers. 

“You have such pretty hair.” The praise rolls out of Kid in a husky drawl, and Killer feels it all the way in his stomach, deep in his gut. 

“Thanks.” 

Kid laughs lightly at Killer’s clipped tone, but if he speaks any more than the redhead is bound to sense his distress. This isn’t a new occurrence, Kid often asks to play in his hair, marveling over how long it's gotten these past few years. Killer is used to being fawned over by his childhood best friend and lover. 

One might not expect it, but Kid craves the contact. Loves to sit between Killer’s legs and paint his nails the same color as his own. Killer allows him these moments because it’s a break in Kid’s hard exterior, those walls shed and it’s just him staring intently, calmly, at the task in front of him. 

This time it’s different. Kid isn’t playing in Killer’s hair just to play in it, he does it like he’s trying to prove some type of point. Kid is sat on their couch with Killer on the floor between muscular thighs- like always. This is the best position for the task, but Kid is being exceptionally rough. 

Killer knows he can take a bit of pain, so that’s why he’s not saying anything, but it’s starting to get to him in more ways than one. Every time Kid jerks his head back or lays it on one thigh to get to the sides, Killer’s legs twitch, gasping. Fingers brush over the top of his ear, and Killer’s sure Kid is up to something. 

“I like this hairstyle on you.” Kid says suddenly, very close to Killer’s ear, and there’s no denying the shiver that wracks up his spine. 

“Yeah?” 

When Kid is done with that braid, he flicks it off to the side, brushing the long tendrils sticking to Killer’s neck right along with it. Sharp canines bite down on his earlobe and Killer groans loudly, blunt fingernails digging into his sweatpants. 

“Do you wanna know why Kil?” Kid purrs, licking across the spot he damn near pulled blood from. 

“Why is that?” 

Killer doesn’t expect Kid to thread his fingers in the hair not braided, wrapping it around his fist quickly to yank Killer’s head back. The blonde’s mouth drops open, blue eyes dilated when he catches Kid’s dark expression. 

“Because I can see every reaction on that pretty face of yours.” 

Killer wouldn’t call himself a blushing man, but accolades from Kid have always stirred something up inside of him. His cheeks dust over faintly and Kid smiles, ever observant, licking his lips. Kid likes to call him pretty, sometimes during the worst moments. Once he did it while Killer was balls deep inside of him, both of Kid's legs thrown over his shoulders, ramming into him, and Kid had the audacity to call him _pretty_. Killer came embarrassingly fast, and he swears Kid holds it over him till this day. 

“There’s a purpose for this hairstyle, did you know that?” Kid genuinely asks him, releasing the hold in Killer’s hair and he raises a questioning eyebrow. 

“No, I didn’t know that.” 

Kid nods his head very seriously, tapping Killer’s shoulder. He raises so that Kid can get up from the couch, blue eyes widening when Kid grabs the back of his head, shoving Killer’s face into his crotch. 

“It’s the perfect hairstyle for something such as this.” 

Killer looks up underneath his lashes to see Kid grinning wickedly, thrusting his hips forward, giving Killer a face full of grey sweats and a hardening cock. 

“Open your mouth Kil,” Kid demands, jerking Killer back by his hair. 

Killer’s expression glazes over, slackening his jaw just as Kid is shoving the front of his sweats down. It’s few and far between Kid gets this dominant, sure they switch in the bedroom like clockwork, but Kid would rather be bratty than stern. Every time these moments come about, this one right here, when Kid throws all that petulance out the window and he’s staring down at Killer like he wants to ravish him. 

These are Killer's favorite moments. 

Kid doesn’t bother asking Killer if he’s sure, if this is what he wants, he grips the side of Killer’s face and drives right into his mouth. Kid’s pleasurable groan rips through Killer and he groans also, placing his hands beside him on the ground, feet planted on the floor with his legs spread. 

“Fuck I love using your mouth,” Kid grunts, snapping forward. 

Killer chokes when his cock touches the back of his throat. Kid keeps on rutting into him, making him gag and splutter on spit, both hands squishing his cheeks together until he can feel the length of Kid’s cock driving in and out of him. Tears quickly well up in his eyes because of the torment, spilling down his cheeks. 

“Look at those pretty blues,” Kid murmurs, thumbs sweeping under the mess of his eyes softly, a stark contrast to the way he’s fucking Killer’s throat. 

Killer’s head nudges onto the edge of the couch with every thrust, rapidly growing harder in his sweatpants. 

“Play with yourself.” 

Kid shifts, a crude twist of his hips that has Killer desperately trying swallow around his member, head dizzy because of the lack of air. A foot pressing down on his cock has Killer’s eyes rolling back, slobbering down to his chin hair. He can feel the front of his shirt getting wet because of the act, and that only serves to make him more aroused, hips snapping up to rut on Kid’s foot. 

“There you go pretty.” 

Killer’s scalp is burning with the way Kid is yanking on his hair, using that as leverage to bob his head up and down his length. 

“Get your dick out.” 

Killer flushes to his chest, his groan coming out muffled when Kid pushes and settles into his throat. Kid’s never been this sadistic with a blow job before, Killer is literally struggling for air, heaving and gagging, face caked with so much spit and tears, nose shamefully dripping with snot. Killer feels humiliated in the best way possible. 

“Come on,” Kid urges, slapping his cheek fondly. 

With the amount of tears leaking out of Killer’s eyes there’s a lingering sting, and Killer rushes to do as he’s told, gasping and coughing when Kid pulls out. Kid’s cock is drenched with so much spit, just glistening, veins thick and Killer licks at his lips knowing he’s close. 

“Oh, you’re so hard baby,” Kid groans, dropping to his hands, rocking forward, smearing the mess on his cock along Killer’s cheek, “pretty little thing, open up.” 

Killer’s moan is higher pitched than usual, jacking himself off quickly when he drops his jaw. Kid rocks quickly in Killer’s mouth and he licks the underside of his cock, back aching with the new position he’s in. Kid’s hands are on either side of his head, clawing at the couch cushions, groaning and grunting with every fucking thrust and Killer’s not going to last. 

“I’m about to cum,” Kid warns and Killer hums, enthusiastically bobbing his head, meeting Kid’s pace. 

Killer’s hand is flying up and down on his cock, leaking enough to slather the length with precum, hips stuttering into his palm. Killer chokes on his spit when he orgasms, eyes rolling up to the ceiling, spilling in his hand. 

“So _tight_ ,” Kid hisses, plunging in his throat until Killer’s nose is buried in red hairs. 

Cum hacks out of his mouth, lips and throat feeling numb, convulsing under Kid. A hand grips tightly in Killer’s hair- 

“Stop fucking moving.” 

Killer releases his spent cock to grip Kid’s thigh, vision going blurry, coughing up the release instead of swallowing it. Kid’s groan is the most pleasurable sound Killer has ever heard him make, like he’s really getting off on Killer not breathing, writhing in protest. 

Kid pushes in further like he has all the damn room to spare, and Killer’s almost quick to tapping out. Mind rushing and body thrumming with the need to breathe, but then Kid’s pulling back and as soon as Killer is free of cock he hunches forward, coughing up spit and phlegm, fucking dry heaving. 

“C’mere pretty.” 

The touch is softer this time, Kid dropping to his knees, never mind the mess on the floor- on Killer’s face and lips when he slots them together. It’s the dirtiest kiss they’ve ever shared, Kid licking into his mouth, tilting his head and smearing spit over his own lips. Killer’s groan is wrecked, holding onto Kid’s shirt tight enough to rip the garment. 

Kid peppers kisses off to the side of his lips and onto his cheek, the back of his hand coming up to wipe at his goatee. 

“I made such a mess of you.” Kid murmurs across his cheekbone, dragging his lips down to Killer’s jawline. 

If he knew this is how Kid would act after fucking his face like he just had, Killer would have let him do it a long time ago. He doesn’t even care when Kid drags them both to the floor, throwing a leg over Killer’s shuddering stomach, his chest still heaving. Killer feels a fucking mess, his face is overheated, and he can barely even open his eyes. 

“But you’re so pretty like this Kil,” Kid plants a kiss right on Killer’s throat, sliding a hand under his head to play in his hair, and Killer smiles. 

“You messed up my braids.” Killer points out, throat gravely, turning his head to see Kid staring at him in awe before breaking out into a smile. 

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, a beautiful reader brought to my attention: '(talking about hair braiding) it starts off tender and soft and it escalates into hair pulling and taking advantage of his face now fully exposed to sully it.' I would have absolutely Adored a facial, but while I was writing I completely forgot because I was too busy imagining Killer struggling for air ): I will most likely do a second part .... maybe
> 
> Also.... I have this really good headcanon that Killer loves being called pretty and I fully projected that in this one shot
> 
> [tumblr](https://eloha.tumblr.com/) • [twitter](https://twitter.com/capturingvenus)


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